NOTE: I went with the interpretation of Christine's scarf as a headscarf (funnily enough because I needed it to be cotton, as wool is rather tedious to burn) but also because I like that better. It can be seen either way the way I wrote it, though :)
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Once I was dressed, Erik hurried me into the drawing room, radiating with excitement. He explained to me the deep meaning of his piece, but I didn't hear a word, and without warning, I was swept inside of it.
His music could inspire such feeling inside me. The euphoria in the piece, the sweet melodies, swirling together in a mass of perfect chords, reminded me of Tchaikovsky, only... more. So much more! It was so terribly beautiful, wringing my heart dry, until I could do little more than weep uncontrollably as it danced inside my ears. The colors of it shifted, red fading into orange, orange into yellow, and suddenly blue would emerge, followed by a rich purple. I was engulfed by the splendor of it all, the all-encompassing joy with sadness lying in wait just beneath the surface.
How could he pull this out of the piano?
It faded away, and Erik's hands vibrated with the passion of his work. Then they fell into his lap and he turned to me with the demeanor of a child waiting to be praised.
"Wasn't it lovely?" He said.
My face was painted with tears and my mouth agape in awe. I nodded.
"Did it make you weep for joy?" He asked, a bit of concern in his tone.
I nodded again, pressing my lips together to keep from dissolving into tears, though I wondered how I had any more to shed.
"Was it acceptable?" He inquired, coming over to me and slowly falling to his knees at my feet. "Was it the most exquisite music you've ever heard?"
"It was," I whispered, nodding emphatically. "Exquisite and... unreal."
His eyes smiled behind his mask, and he brought the hem of my dress to his lips.
"It's my gift to you," he said. "I will play it whenever you ask."
"Thank you..."
He rose swiftly, "What shall we do now? It's so exciting to have a wife, you know! We can do anything at all, anything!"
I nodded blankly.
"Do you have a request? Perhaps you're ready for lunch now? I won't make you eat anything today if you're still anxious, but you can't starve yourself, you know... I'm a very patient man, my little Christine, you know this. After all, I spent years devoting myself to a single piece for weeks on end. So I can be patient with you, too, and soon you'll warm up to the idea of marriage, as it's such a lovely thing. I'm going to take such wonderful care of you! You won't want for anything, I promise, and you know how I despise promises... Why are you still so fearful, though? You know I love you. And I won't keep you down here for eternity."
"When can I go back up?" I asked pitifully.
He tapped his fingertips together, "I'm not entirely sure yet. No longer than a month."
"A month?! Please, Erik, not a month-"
"For your protection... But I'm sure I can at least take you up by the end of the week for a brief walk, if anything."
"But why-?"
"You know why!" He exclaimed with fury. "It's your fault, yes, all your fault I can't take you back up!" He began to sob, "I don't want to keep you h-here... I don't! I w-want to take you on walks, a-and carriage rides, a-and even perhaps to a nice restaurant, wouldn't that be lovely? They have private rooms in some, if you would prefer that. You wouldn't have to be stared at then... Why do you cry? I've already told you, I don't like this situation any more than you do. You don't belong beneath the earth, it's not right for you at all... Please don't cry, please, I don't like it either."
"But why?" I demanded again. "Why are you being so cruel for no reason-?"
"I am not being cruel, only logical," he retorted coldly. "But we can have lots of fun down here! We have everything we could ever need, music and-"
"When will we have a house?"
He glanced down at the Persian carpet, "Maybe a month or two. It's tedious to find a house that will suit us well, and is in the right place, and then it has to be furnished to your liking... Yes, two months should be plenty. And you can look forward to it, how happy you'll be when you don't have to come down here anymore!"
"Do you promise we'll have a house?"
"I don't make promises. But of course we will have a house! Why wouldn't we? We can be perfectly normal. You could even have a child if you so desired."
I shook my head, "I don't want children."
He laughed, "How silly you are, my little Christine, not mine."
I blinked, confused, but he continued before I could ask him what this meant.
"Let's have lunch now," he offered. "I need to quickly prepare it. You sit at the dining table, and don't get up from there or else I will tie you to it. I won't have you killing yourself or causing any more bruises to color your skin."
I nodded, obeying readily. I had to get on good terms with him again as soon as possible, or else I would find myself never alone again.
I folded my arms on the table and buried my head in them. Erik kept going in and out of the kitchen to be sure I wasn't attempting to hurt myself.
We ate lunch, that is to say I did and he watched, but I didn't taste any of it. I found myself exceptionally tired already, and requested a nap.
His eyes lit, "How long will you sleep?"
"An hour, perhaps."
"An hour..." he whispered. "I'm going to give you something to help you, as you must still be nervous."
I shook my head violently, "No, I'm alright now-"
"You will take what I give you," he argued, his tone making me shiver. "I need to run an errand while you sleep, as opposed to tying you up. I despise the thought of it... Unless you would rather be bound as opposed to asleep?"
"Bound."
He rose like a flame, "You don't trust me at all, do you?! How terrible you think I am, that I would violate my poor wife without her knowledge! You think me so wicked, don't you? Wicked enough to do such a despicable thing to you, when I adore you and want only to give you everything!... I won't have you be bound! I won't stand for it, because you'll struggle, won't you? And then your poor wrists would redden again, perhaps bleed... No, you will sleep. Wait here."
He went into the kitchen, and emerged rather swiftly with a cup of tea-like liquid of a brownish hue.
"Drink it all at once," he commanded, "but get dressed for bed first. I'll wait outside your door."
I had never felt more brave or stupid in all my life as I did then, walking to my room with him following. He turned around in the doorway, the cup of death in his hand, and I undressed to be more comfortable. I knew that no matter how many layers I had on, it wouldn't make a difference.
"I'm finished," I told him from the bed.
I had the sheets up to my chin, and I stared at him as he came over to me, presenting the cup.
"You need to trust me," he said. "Married people should trust one another, and at the very least, the wife should trust her husband."
He extended it further to me. I took it with trembling hands and raised it to my lips.
"Promise," I whispered.
"You know very well- oh, what's the harm? I promise."
Before I allowed myself time to think, I began to gulp it down. I didn't take a single breath.
He took the empty cup from my hands, and told me in a praising manner, "There, see?... I'll be back in an hour or two, you should sleep for all that time. And when you wake, I'll have a surprise for you."
I nodded blankly, curling up about myself. My eyelids grew heavy as he turned off the light and shut the door.
He had promised...
When I woke, I began to breathe hard, fearful of what might have occurred. To my relief, nothing. Erik had been truthful.
The door, however, was ajar. He was pacing in front of it, his hands kneading together with anticipation.
"Erik?" I called.
He halted, pushing open the door, "Are you awake now, my wife? Are you feeling better?"
"Much better."
"And now you trust me. I didn't touch you, of course, as you can tell... But I have a surprise for you regardless of that, dress and come into the drawing room."
He allowed me to be alone this time, and I breathed a sigh of relief at this. Once I was dressed, I went into the drawing room, placing myself upon the sofa with my hands in my lap.
He came over to me with a white chest, like for jewelry, only slightly larger. He handed it to me and sat down beside me as if pleased with himself and excited to see my reaction.
I flicked open the latch. The hinges were new, so they didn't creak upon opening. I stared at the contents.
"My things," I said. "Thank you, Erik, for getting these."
"You can keep them on your dresser... Such strange possessions, though. I expected them to be more valuable."
"The rocks are from Sweden, and the coins... I took some of home with me."
"And the necklaces?"
"A girl made me the shell one, and the other is a locket with a note from my mother inside. It's not real silver, we couldn't afford that. I actually don't know what it's made out of... And then the picture of my father... But..." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Erik, something's missing."
"What?"
"I didn't think she would forget it. My red scarf. I wore it often as a girl, it was my favorite."
"That's strange. Perhaps she didn't think it precious enough to you."
"But I kept it with these things!" I insisted. "Could she have lost it?"
"You're quite upset by this."
"Did you take it?" I asked, suddenly realizing it was more than likely. "You took it, didn't you?"
"Why would I?"
"Because you know about it, the story with it, you know!"
"You need to calm yourself. I don't have it-"
"How could you?"
"How could I?" he demanded. "How could I? When you want only to remember a former lover by it?... Would a man allow his wife to be married in another's pearls? Or have anything not given by him, for that matter? No! Why am I any different? And I'm only holding you to your promise of not thinking of him."
"Please, Erik, you're being cruel!"
"Cruel?" He said darkly, bending over me. "You think this is cruel?"
Then he left, his pace swift, and he disappeared into his bedroom. I watched the door in trepidation.
What had I done now?!
He emerged with the red fabric clutched between his bony hands. I thought he would halt in front of me, but he continued to the fireplace, extending his hand over the flames-
"Erik, no!" I shrieked. "Please! You can't!"
"It's a piece of fabric, my dear, nothing more. And yet it pains you so, doesn't it?"
"Please don't burn it, please."
"Why not?"
"Because I will cry!"
"Cry over another man... Who is being cruel, you or I?"
"I am, I am, I'm sorry."
He removed his hand from the flames, "I will give you this when you can prove you trust me. And if you try to deceive me, I will burn it without a second thought... Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded. My face burned with foolishness, but I couldn't help it. That red scarf was all I had of Raoul now. It had become him.
Where even was Raoul, now?
"Let me show you some magic tricks, my darling," Erik offered, once he had concealed the scarf in his bedroom again. "I'm going to see if you can find out how I do them."
"I just want to watch," I replied dejectedly.
"If you insist..."